never let me go
by ReginaCaelum
Summary: Oneshot. i will not let you face this alone—TouRin


**Disclaimer: disclaimed**

It's been a rough few months, but hopefully I can get into the swing of things again. This was inspired by the _Suits _finale, and the brief song lyrics are by Mumford & Sons.

* * *

First chance he gets after the funeral, he sleeps and doesn't come up for a long time. As soon as he does, though, the tear tracts on his face and the heaviness in his chest tell him to fall asleep again.

**(because while he's asleep he can't think, can't feel guilty, can't remember, just dream) **

The bed is empty but his girlfriend's side is still warm. He's awake now and the moonlight shining through the window indicates it's not later than two. Less than a day since—

**(—since the woman who raised him, sheltered him, **_**loved **_**him even when he did nothing but disappoint; since she was buried in the cold still earth, surrounded by people who didn't know her) **

A rush of feeling flows through his veins; he throws the covers back impatiently before he cries again and pads softly out of the bedroom, past the living area and into the kitchen.

**(he has this penthouse because he works hard, harder than a anyone else because he wants to provide and that's why he's busy, you know, because he works hard) **

The cold steel of the kitchen appliance feels good against his forehead. It centers him, calms him, but the tears still prick at the back of his eyes, over his lashes, onto his skin.

**(he just can't stop thinking of the way she knew him, knew him like no one else, and she loved him even though she could've easily seen him as a burden, a failure, a freak) **

The crisp hum of a guitar breaks through the dim sound of the city, followed by several others. It comes from the direction of the balcony and, grateful for the distraction, he roughly rubs his eyes and follows.

**(he always follows, he'd follow her, always, because she knew best, but he doesn't realize that until she's gone. hindsight is twenty-twenty, he knows rationally, but it just **_**hurts**_**) **

Karin is curled up in a chair, wearing only a t-shirt and panties, expertly holding his guitar in her small hands. The moonlight bathes her in a soft halo, and as she hums quietly, Hitsugaya doesn't think he's ever seen anything more beautiful.

**(for a moment, he forgets the death and sadness and guilt because all he sees is radiance) **

The brunette, her hair darker in the night, pauses then tilts her head back. From beneath her messy bangs piercing blue eyes widen sheepishly. "Sorry; did I wake you?" she asks. He shakes his head and sits beside her, hoping the darkness hides his red eyes even though he knows it won't. She's already so worried for him (because she knows what this feels like) and he's fine, really.

**(the only mother—only **_**parent**_**—he ever had just died; don't worry—oh, and he never got to say goodbye because he was too busy; don't forget that) **

His girlfriend is trying to look at him without _really _looking at him, and he quickly gestures for her to continue playing. (It's lovely, her music.) After a moment she does, plucking each string with precision, combining each note into a gentle symphony. He leans back, closes his eyes, and listens.

**(music will soothe his soul and calm his erratic heart and maybe for once he can just **_**listen **_**and not **_**hear**_**, not **_**think**_**) **

Time passes without measure. All he comprehends is the melody flowing from beneath her fingers. It floats subtly over him and bathes him in, what, acceptance? Reality? He cries, a little bit, but that's nothing new. He doesn't scrub at the tears like they're stains to be ashamed of, though, just lets them run over his face and between his lips, onto his tongue. His face feels raw afterwards, but it's okay; like scar tissue, he has protection against future hurt.

**(there will come a time, you'll see, with no more tears and love will not break your heart / but dismiss your fears get over your hill and you'll see what you find there / with grace in your heart and flowers in your hair) **

The music doesn't stop, even when he slips into quasi-dreaming, it just becomes the soundtrack as he says goodbye the way he should've. Sometimes Karin sings, but never louder than a whisper, lest she disturb him, about love and beauty and pain and rebirth and goodbyes that aren't really and second chances and angels that never leave your side.

**(and her presence gives him the structure he's been missing since the funeral, when everything became **_**real, **_**when the numbness disappeared and the pain came. it gives him hope that someday he'll be okay, he can move on—never forget because he owes so much more than that—and maybe life will continue) **

When he opens his eyes—

**(but for now his heart is broken and he's suffocating in guilt and despair and he wants to sink in it)**

—the music has stopped

**(he'll be strong one day; he's better than that because that's what he was taught to be) **

and the sun is up.

**(she is still there beside him) **

fin.


End file.
